


English Love Affair

by artificialashley



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Lesbian AU, Roman Holiday AU, You get the rest, mention of potential assault, mild almost smut, rpdr, scarlet is basically paris hilton, scyvie, yvie is a sulky writer who wants to write about REAL probs not silly celeb gossip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 11:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialashley/pseuds/artificialashley
Summary: The princess of America’s biggest hotel chain, Scarlet hatches a plan to escape from her fame for just a few hours. And then she meets Yvie, the roving reporter who will do anything to keep her job, including lying her way through the longest day she’s ever experienced.





	English Love Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Hope yous like this, my first every Scyvie so a bit scared haha - a modern day Roman Holiday AU (title taken from a 5sos song lol) Thanks so so so so much to meggie for beta-ing she is a ledge. Lots of love Ashley xoxox

It took all of two minutes for Scarlet to collapse on her bed after she entered her suite, letting out a moan of exhaustion as her face hit the pillow.

There she was in one of the world’s most global cities, the London skyline dancing by her window, stuck in the four walls of her parent's new hotel.

“Scarlet,” her mother tutted in her direction. Despite being face-deep in pillows, Scarlet knew she was shaking her head. “You only posted six stories tonight! We are counting on you to help us open here, we need the younger generation on board. I am expecting a lot more enthusiasm on your behalf tomorrow.”

Scarlet wondered whether she should just go and make a sex tape to make her parents mad, figuring in the end that knowing her luck it would only end off benefiting the pair. Maybe a drug binge? Or worse, she could be caught staying in a Hilton!

She couldn’t help but admit she often thrived on the knowledge that the world knew her, that they wanted her, feeling a rush of confidence every time she strutted a walkway and heard her name being called, endorphins rising with every click of a camera. Nonetheless, she longed for the world just the same way, to walk on the streets and be the people who called after her, to visit a market and eat street food. 

Just one day where she wasn’t the princess of the Flazé empire and just a girl with wide eyes and a big beating heart.

“I am too unwell to do anything tomorrow.” She threw a hand over her forehead; the drama queen she had always been from a young age, an angsty teenager stuck in the body of a twenty-something-year-old.

“Well then we shall call a doctor immediately because your schedule is tight.” Her mother turned to an assistant, her commanding stare having the women running out of the room without even the click of her fingers. “We have a press conference at eight, a shoot straight after...”

Scarlet zoned out of her mother’s words, trying to pretend her long list of responsibilities for the following day was of no significance to her whatsoever. 

“I do not need a doctor.” Scarlet’s dramatics heightened, the days of jetting around the world, remaining prim and proper catching up on her. “I just need to sleep!”

With that Scarlet heard the scoff of her mother’s throat and the slamming of the door, feeling sorry for the assistant on the other end of the conversation that would soon occur.

***

“I like it Yvie, I really do.” Nina tapped her false nails across the wooden desk, clearly searching for the right words to let her employee down gently. 

Yvie didn’t even bother building herself up, she was ready for the punch.

“But it isn’t us and I think you know that.”

There it was. Nina was right, she did know, but it didn’t sting any less.

“It’s real life Nina, it’s what you see when you walk down the streets,” Yvie said, rehashing a point she knew she had made a billion times already and was not yet ready to compromise on.

“If people want to know what’s on the streets they can go out and look at them.” Nina shook a sympathetic head to the girl. “They want to read about the rich and famous, the life that they don’t have themselves. I’m going to be real with you, Yvie, you’re a good writer, a really good writer, and so many girls like you would kill for a job here, but you’re skating on thin ice. This is a gossip tabloid and we write gossip.”

“I know.” Yvie winced at her words, thinking back to the cold shower she had that morning, the water added to her milk to make it last, “I promise I want to be here, I’ll try.”

“I want this for you too, Yvie.” She placed a mothering hand over her employee’s own, “Look, there’s a new Flazé just opened off Westminster and the family arrived in London yesterday. They have a daughter, Scarlet, she has 10 million followers on Instagram and drama seems to follow where she goes. I was gonna give this to Kahanna but I’ll give you a chance, I need dirt on this girl.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Yvie responded dutifully, not usually one to compromise on her morals, but the thought of being jobless in a city where a £5 pint was considered cheap making her shudder. 

“There’s a press conference at eight tomorrow, get yourself home and rested for it.” Nina smiled at the girl as she watched her exhale a breath held for far too long.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” She fumbled for her bag and was out of the office within minutes, ready to get home and find out everything she could overnight about Instagram’s latest piece of royalty.

*** 

Scarlet knew she didn’t have long till the drowsiness of the sleeping pills would hit her - she had to move fast. 

Padding her feet silently on the cold marble floor of her suite, she grabbed the first pair of ballet flats that she saw, a pair her New York Fashion Week feet had never worn outside the comfort of her own home, wherever home was that day. Wearing nothing but her nightdress, she peered out of the eyehole on her door, finding herself at no avail when noticing the two “assistants” placed on watch duty outside of her door.

Swinging it open, she conjured up every ounce of Southern charm that her body could secrete, her inner damsel-in-distress bursting out into the open.

“Help!” she grabbed one of their lapels. “There’s a man on my balcony.”

Their instincts acting over logic in just the way Scarlet had hoped, the pair looked at each other and sprinted into the suite, leaving Scarlet with just the right amount of time to slip down the corridor and down the hidden maid’s stairwell, praising whatever lord would listen that her parent’s hotels were simply carbon copies of each other in new locations, a floor plan that she knew like the freckles on her arms.

Within minutes she had made it to the bottom floor, out of the maid’s quarters and to a fire exit. She could almost taste the smoke-filled air and river salt that lay above her. The dirty, dirty taste of freedom.

***

“Vanj, I need to be up at eight tomorrow,” Yvie pleaded down the phone as she made her way through the now darkened streets, gripping her bag tightly whilst searching for a cigarette in her purse.

Despite living there since her first year of uni, she never would get used to the sheer volume of people that lurked the streets at night, the antithesis to her Northern town. Wherever she went there were people, people like her racing home after a late stay at the office, people in short skirts and clicking heels ready to drink away their problems, people exchanging whatever they could in hushed voices on almost every corner.

“Just don’t go to sleep,” her friend pleaded in her usually gravel filled tone. Yvie often wondered whether the girl had fallen out of the womb yelling and hadn’t stopped till the age of thirteen.

“Next time,” Yvie responded, wishing she was out drinking instead of dealing with the fact that tomorrow she may not have a job. “Ring Silky.”

As often as Yvie found herself unaccustomed to the London lifestyle, nothing filled her with more dread than the thought of leaving the city. The thought of packing up her bags, jumping on the next train and returning home with nothing to her name but the remnants of broken dreams strewn in a suitcase. 

She could miss one night of Vanessa’s pisshead shenanigans if it meant keeping her job, paying her rent, and delaying her inevitable failure as a writer.

“You owe me,” Vanessa grunted, Yvie vividly picturing her crumpled up face on the other end of the line.

“I paid your entry last week so don’t even.” Yvie shook her head before bidding goodbye to her friend and continuing her journey home.

Or at least that what she had planned to do.

She didn’t know what it was that turned her head to the left, what made her catch her eye on the pale girl clad only in a nightie, passed out on a wooden bench.

“So…happy...” she heard the girl slur.

Not passed out then; she re-evaluated the situation, just bordering on paralytic.

“Hey,” she tapped the girl's shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Thank you.” She turned to face Yvie, accidentally over-rotating and throwing herself off the bench altogether before Yvie could so much as reach out a hand.

“Ouch,” she stated almost nonchalantly, her eyes only half-open but still allowing Yvie to make out their light blue, a startling contrast to her auburn hair and pale complexion.

“Get up.” Yvie held a hand out to the stranger, feeling a sudden need to protect her, the thought of leaving her in such a state resting uneasily in her mind. 

Rolling her eyes more at herself than the girl now in a vertical position, Yvie swore under her breath; of course she’d find herself bringing home a stray cat, almost annoyed at her morals and wishing she was more of a shitty person so that she could leave the girl alone without having to worry about her, the way she knew many of the other people around her would have, and probably already had done.

“Is this a reaction?” The girl gripped Yvie’s arm for balance, her bitter cold hands almost refreshing.

Yvie almost chuckled at the girl’s inability to speak sense coupled with an American accent that she hadn’t expected. I hope I’m not this bad when I’m drunk, she thought to herself, knowing fine well that she was worse.

“Come on chemistry lady, I’ll find you a bed.”

***

“Who are you, and where am I?” Scarlet held a frying pan above the waking girl, only then realising that she should have picked a better weapon.

“Woah.” The girl raised her hands in the air and gave Scarlet a look of utter bewilderment, crawling back on the floor. “You’re in my bloody flat with my frying pan!”

“Did you keep me captive here?” Scarlet ignored the girl’s angry face, stories of models and socialites who were kidnapped on holiday flashing through her mind. “Who is paying you? How much money do you want?”

“Captive!” The girl rose to her feet, her eyes almost firing dark red lasers at Scarlet, clearly not afraid of her or her weapon of choice. “I found you passed out on a bench in the middle of the city; god, I’ll let you get molested next time.”

“Oh.” Scarlet lowered the pan, remembering the sleeping pills she had taken, remembering the way she ran down the streets after leaving the hotel. “This is your home?”

“Yes.” Yvie stared her down. “And don’t even bother making any comments about how tiny it is, how the kitchen and the living area dare to be in the same room or how my toilet chain doesn’t flush properly because I had enough of that all night!”

Sudden flashes of rolling around the floor, laughing as she realised the bedroom she was in was the only one in existence started to come back to her like polaroids developing in the light.

“Sorry.” She winced at the thought of her own words, “I’d taken some sleeping pills...”

But the girl didn’t even respond to her, instead simply opening her mouth wide and streaming off a string of profanities that made Scarlet giggle. Grabbing a bag and shoving whatever was nearby in it, Scarlet watched as the girl attempted to smooth her hair down whilst juggling a set of keys, a look of utter panic on her face.

“Out.” She motioned to Scarlet, the door to the apartment open to a dingy looking hallway.

“I’m not going out, I haven’t even showered!” Scarlet panicked at the thought of a paparazzo catching her in a nightie, hair thick with grease - not the scandal she had been hoping for.

“Well, I was supposed to be somewhere two hours ago, so you’re out or you’re locked in.” Yvie wasted no time trying to reason with the girl, shaking her head as she simply stood there doe-eyed and open-mouthed. “Guess it’s locked in.”

“I don’t even know your name,” Scarlet cried out, her mind bypassing the mess she was in as the girl was about to slam her door.

“Yvie,” she shouted from the hallway, not bothering to ask Scarlet her own.

***

“So.” Nina clapped both hands together with a chipper smile as she stood above Yvie’s desk, either not noticing her dishevelled state or being too kind to mention it - most likely the latter.

Her boss's face looking at her expectantly, Yvie’s brain went into full-on panic mode, beginning to blurt out every lie she could about the press conference.

“...and then the daughter started to hint at business ventures of her own.”

Looking up she noticed that Nina’s face had turned from chipper to sullen in the time she had spoken, spinning around like the mayor from  _ The Nightmare Before Christmas. _

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t fire you right now.” She sighed, Yvie wishing she would shout at her rather than look so sad - her heart breaking inside at the thought of disappointing her boss, the thought that she had coasted her way through the job instead of giving it her all like she should have.

She bowed her head in silence.

“This is an article from Buzzfeed.” Nina plopped her phone on the table for Yvie to see, the title reading ‘Starlet Scarlet MIA from Flazé Conference: Mystery Illness?’

“This is the type of drama I wanted you to be investigating, Yvie, you should have been there, I put my neck on the line for you.”

Even though Yvie knew deep down she couldn’t blame anyone but herself, she couldn’t help but find herself angry at the insufferable girl she had stayed up looking after the night before, angrier even at the stupid heiress for not showing up to her own press conference and exposing Yvie’s lie.

Grabbing the phone from the table she began to scroll down the article, figuring she might as well take a look at the girl for good measure before boxing up her favourite mug and saying goodbye to her friends.

“Holy shit.” Her mouth moved without her brain comprehending the fact that she was swearing in front of her boss, ex-boss, maybe? 

“Yvie?”

“I have a reason.” She let out a laugh with both perplexity and irony. “This girl is in my flat.”

***

“How dare you lock me in your home?” The rage Scarlet had built for the past few hours spilled out of her body before Yvie could even place her keys on the shelf.

“How was I to know you wouldn’t steal anything?” Yvie shrugged a shoulder, finding humour in Scarlet’s distress. “I wasn’t wrong!”

“I have no other clothes.” She looked down at the leggings and jumper she had borrowed from Yvie’s wardrobe, breathing a sigh of relief that the other girl didn’t seem to know who she was. “I will pay you back.”

“With the money in your nightie?” Yvie laughed and Scarlet couldn’t help but join in too, finding something so infectious in the way she bellowed like an ogre brewing a stew.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands - suddenly feeling bad when putting things in the other girl’s perspective, understanding her anger that morning; she was Goldilocks barging into the bears’ home and ruining everything. “I’m a bit lost right now.”

“I think America is somewhere over there.” Yvie pointed to her side, making Scarlet giggle like a schoolgirl once again. “What’s your name?”

Shit.

She hadn’t thought of this part.

“Stacey,” she blurted, thinking of one of the women she had seen on a panel show as she had flicked through Yvie’s channels earlier that day.

“Stacey,” Yvie repeated, pulling a face that Scarlet couldn’t quite decipher. 

Standing up from the couch with the fear of overstaying her welcome or being discovered, Scarlet addressed the girl once more. “Would you be able to direct me to an ATM so I can repay you for your clothes and catch a taxi to Covent Garden?”

“I can take you to Covent Garden myself.”

“Oh no, I will be fine.” Scarlet’s natural instinct to run away from anything and everything in her life kicking in. “Just the ATM.”

Little did she know that Yvie would be stopped by nothing to wander the streets of Camden by her side.

***

“Vanj, I need a solid.” Yvie held her heart out to her friend over the line, her voice cracking as she began to make her way through the underground, in a complete role reversal to the conversation that they had the night before.

“What? I’m hanging!”

“What a way to greet a friend who has always been at your beck and call.”

“Last time I checked, you were the one owing me favours.” The girl seemed to have livened up on the phone, returning to her usual hyper self within a few minutes of waking up, surpassing the initial grogginess of the morning after.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need this. I’ll get you a Maccy’s breakfast, just meet me with your oyster and camera.”

“Fine, but it better be a double.”

Yvie grinned with glee at her friend's agreement, the cogs of her plan all starting to churn into place.

***

“Yvie, that is borderline stalking.”

And Vanessa was supposed to be the friend who supported her bad decisions.

“It’s my job, Vanj. And I’m just gonna approach her and ask again. I’m not going to force her with me.”

“But you want me to peer around corners and take photos for you!”

“It’s fine; I’ll just have this back.” Yvie plucked the McMuffin straight from her friend’s mouth like she was taking a dummy from a baby.

“You win this time.” Vanessa snatched her breakfast back with a triumphant grin, Yvie already turning on the ball of her foot and making her way back into the underground before another bite could be taken.

Rolling her eyes at her friend, Vanessa began to quicken her pace, legs doing double the work, as one of Yvie’s amazonian steps covered two of hers. 

“Is she fit?” She practically shouted, garnering stares from the rest of the public and making Yvie stop in her tracks, opening her mouth to speak but closing it again before words could come out.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

***

“Higher.” Scarlet watched as he lifted his scissors further up her hair, taking in the man’s pained expression as she jostled him to cut more and more off, eventually grabbing the scissors herself and holding them in line at the bottom of her neck.

“All off!” he gasped, clearly triggered by her decision to get rid of the locks that had eaten up so much money through treatments, stylists, and products.

“Like Audrey Hepburn in the 50s,” she squealed.

“Well, I do owe you a duty of care to tell you that, in my professional opinion, you will not suit it and this is all your doing.”

Turning to grin at him, Scarlet imagined this is what being on the top of a roller coaster felt like, smiling before the tumult of the big drop.

“All off!”

***

Yvie felt a wave of stupidity as she scanned the streets of the busy area for the redhead, knowing that she could well be anywhere between the hustle and bustle of street performers and market stalls. 

She didn’t dare stop anyone in fear of getting her purse stolen or worse, simply stopping every few minutes to listen for that overseas drawl whining about something.

In reality, it didn’t take too long.

“No, you can’t.” Yvie heard the familiar voice and soon saw Scarlet through the window of a salon, feeling grateful that the girl she was trailing around London to find just so happened to think she was the star of a 1950s drama film.

“Is everything all right?” Yvie popped her head in the doorway, trying her very hardest not to startle the other girl or further trip her short fuse.

“No.” Scarlet gave the man a heinous look before even registering that it was Yvie in the doorway.

“I thought I ought to make sure you had everything under control out here by yourself,” Yvie explained away her being there, making dead eye contact with the other girl and almost feeling an exchange of energy between them.

“I’m not a child,” Scarlet whined, proving the utter antithesis to her point. “This man is trying to take my photo without my permission.”

“I just wanted to post her hair on my Instagram, it looks really good.” He turned to Yvie and raised a brow as in to say ‘What is with this crazy American lady?’

Yvie threw her two arms in a shrug back at him, trying to think of a way around the situation.

She couldn’t act too defensive on Scarlet’s behalf, she didn’t want her to know the truth. She couldn’t let him take the photo, then the rest of the city would be on Scarlet’s trail and Yvie would miss her exclusive. Besides, she kind of felt a small warmth toward the girl, despite her outlandish antics. Yvie could tell that inside there was just a vulnerable person who wanted a taste of freedom.

“Just take it from the back, without her face in the mirror.” She looked from the hairdresser to Scarlet, trying to come up with a clear compromise. “Sorry, Stacey here has a bit of a psycho ex, doesn’t do the whole social media thing.”

The lies started to slip off her tongue without falter. Festering themselves in layers upon layers, a complex beehive she would have to try to manage.

“Fine.” He agreed reluctantly. 

Yvie couldn’t help but feel his pain, for Scarlet did look beautiful, the short style really showing the sharpness of her cheekbones, the playfulness in her smile.

“I can survive on my own, you know?” The girl gave Yvie a side-eye that could have sliced through the biggest of tensions.

“Maybe you can,” Yvie teased the girl, “maybe you can’t. Either way, I can’t help but admit I kind of want to show you around London.”

This part wasn’t a lie.

“Do you know where we can get ice cream?” Scarlet looked longingly outside, the summer atmosphere filling every inch of the air around them.

“You bet I do.”

And with that they were off, walking the streets together, hands only centimetres away from touching.

***

“I think we should just get in one of those black cabs.” Panic rose in Scarlet’s mind as they began their descent down what seemed like the steepest escalator she had ever seen in her life.

“Are you joking?” Yvie shook her head at the girl, pushing her body onto the right side to let people past.

“I’ve never been on a subway before, this is scary.” She reached for one of the cigarettes she had purchased first after leaving Yvie’s apartment that morning, deciding she would need at least ten to calm her nerves in the station, maybe 11. Following Yvie’s lead, she was surprised at how well she managed to navigate her way through the mounds of people, barely even taking a second glance as to what platform they needed to be on.

“How come people don’t walk into you!” She caught up with her guide, only just managing to escape the mangle of bodies that pushed her in every which way.

“Look straight ahead at where you want to be, never down, never to the side, people will just move.”

“People here aren’t very friendly,” Scarlet responded, knowing full well that she probably wouldn’t have given someone the same respect on the street a few days ago.

“It took me a while to get used to as well, back at home you say hello to every man and his dog whether you know them or not.”

“When did you move here?” Scarlet asked as they waited for their tube to come.

“I came for uni but stayed after, there are more jobs around here and I kinda like the fast movement of the city.”

Before Scarlet could ask where she worked, a young man was running towards her with a whistle in his hand and a stern look on his face.

“No smoking.” He grabbed the cigarette from Scarlet’s hand despite the fact that she had not yet lit it. “You’re not getting on.”

“Hey.” Yvie tried to reason with him before her lady in shining armour came to save the day.

“Brock!” She heard Vanessa’s voice before she even saw her, almost forgetting she had asked her to trail them and take photographs. “Long time no see! How do you know my friend Yvie?”

He stood a little shell shocked, his eyes turning soft like a puppy dog as he tried to take all of Vanessa in. 

“I, er-” he tried to respond but was cut off before he could go any further.

“There’s a boat party down the canal tonight, Brock, you should totally come.”

“Yeah, I would love to.” He reached out for Vanessa’s hand but didn’t get the chance to touch it as she began to pull away.

“Here’s the tube, see ya!” she cried in her gravelly voice, grabbing Yvie and Scarlet with an arm each and essentially forcing them through the doors.

“When did you sleep with a tube guard?” Yvie questioned, not even putting it past her friend when she thought about it further.

“Long story.” She brushed her friend off. “Are you not gonna introduce me to your friend?”

Making a mental note to give her a smack on the arm later for the way she emphasised the word friend, Yvie placed a hand on Scarlet’s back. “This is Stacey.”

“Tory?” Vanessa mouthed to Yvie jokingly, raising an eyebrow.

“American.” Yvie laughed in response before turning to Scarlet, “Sorry about her sense of humour, this is Vanjie.”

“Vanjie.” Scarlet repeated, the pair of them chuckling at the way she spat the nickname like a tongue twister. “Thanks for not getting me kicked out of the tube station!”

“It’s no bother.” She responded, giving Scarlet a seat on the tube. “Now how do you fancy a boat party tonight, Stacey?”

***

“What about this one?” Scarlet held a dress to her new-found friends.

Despite being deemed talentless by fifty percent of the media, she knew that her eye for fashion was notably better than the average girls. Whether looking through a Marc Jacobs collection or strolling the aisles of the British discount store she had immediately found love for, she knew fashion.

“That doesn’t really seem like your style?” Yvie examined it closer, surprised at the heiress choosing a black v-neck stretch fabric number from Primark.

“Ugh, no.” Scarlet looked down at the dress. “For you!”

“Well it certainly isn’t my style.” Her eyes nearly popped out of her head, garnering a laugh from Vanessa.

“Too bad.” Scarlet smiled, forcing it in the other girl’s hands. “You’re trying it on.”

“One.” Yvie held a finger to her. “We are here for you. And two, these changing rooms might as well be a stop on the way to hell.”

Picking up a dress in her signature red, Scarlet turned to face Yvie, a devilish grin plastered across her face. 

“Well, we better hurry up or we’ll miss the train.”

Yvie didn’t even try to hide her laugh. Although she had started her time with the star thinking she was arrogant and too caught up in her own fantasy, it was little moments like this throughout the day that showed her that despite all her dramatics, Scarlet was just as funny and down to earth as anyone else on the planet. She was just as gritty as Yvie herself, only she smoothed over her edges much better.

“You look beautiful,” Scarlet simply stated as Yvie pulled back the curtain - no screeching, no theatrics, the way she was feeling just rolling off her tongue. 

“It’s too revealing,” Yvie responded.

“Can I remind you of your arse last Halloween?” Vanjie chirped from her spot next to Scarlet.

“Oh my god, you have boobs!” Scarlet played a fake gasp, looking around the changing rooms, “Everyone, this girl has boobs!”

Yvie’s face flushed a perplex colour resembling something like a beetroot. “Shut the fuck up.”

“If you let me buy it for you.”

“No,” Yvie replied, folding her arms with her usual stubbornness that Scarlet had seemed to meet several times despite only knowing each other for a mere day.

“EVERYONE, YV-”

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Scarlet beamed, her infectious smile bright like a kid in Hamleys. “Time for accessories!”

For the first time in her life, Yvie had no issue being dragged around the post-apocalyptic war cavern disguised as a shop. In fact, she could have watched Scarlet getting excited about scrunchies and Tic-Tacs and sponges shaped like fruit all day.

***

“Don’t be having too much.” Yvie rested a steady hand on the glass in Scarlet’s hand. “I don’t want to have to come and find you from a park bench.”

“I’m fine.” The girl smiled in response. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Are you having a good time?”

Scarlet wondered if she meant at the party or just in general. The answer was the same either way. “Of course.”

“Come with me.” Yvie held out her hand almost naturally.

Scarlet did need to be asked twice.

***

“I can’t remember the last time I saw the stars for real. It’s weird, they used to be there all the time when I was a kid and I never paid them any attention.”

“Global warming’s a bitch.” Yvie laughed, her head falling on the other girl's shoulder.

Neither of them made any effort to move.

“Maybe I should stay here for good.”

“Maybe you should.” Yvie looked at her, really looked at her.

And at that moment she didn’t care about the job, or the money, Scarlet’s fame, the fact that Vanjie was probably taking pictures of them whilst running away from her tube guard. 

She wanted to find the nearest clock and punch it so that this day could go on forever.

If only it were Groundhog Day and she could wake up again late to work with a raging ginger holding a frying pan to her head.

“I ran away.” Scarlet looked to Yvie, a blanket of seriousness washing over her face for the first time all day. “It was just meant to be for a few hours but here we are. I just feel like my parents... They have this perfect vision of me in their heads, but it just isn’t me.”

“Here we are.” Yvie repeated, shocking even herself about how much one day could change everything.

Before Yvie knew what she was doing, her lips were on Scarlet’s.

She tasted of cheap drink and raspberries.

Her hand ran delicately through the short tendrils of curls that sat by her neck.

Normally Yvie was a tough lover, everything about passionate grabbing and giving.

But she held Scarlet like she was papier-mache that could crumble in her hands.

Scarlet placed an arm on her back, moving it lower and lower until it reached Yvie’s curve. 

“We’re on the roof of a boat.” Yvie giggled looking around her, praying to god that Vanessa was too preoccupied with tube guy to be documenting this specific moment.

“Well, we can just wait then.” Scarlet pulled away.

The thing Yvie liked most about Scarlet’s mischievous grin was that it consisted of more than her mouth. Her eyes, her cheeks, her nose - they were all smirking and winding her up like a jack in the box ready to take flight at any second.

“Yeah, fuck it,” she responded, pulling the other girl in closer, tighter. Their bodies a perfect yin and yang, slotting together like pieces of one fucked up jigsaw.

Scarlet’s hands explored her body like she was discovering America, running her nails right from Yvie’s shoulders to her thighs, making circle after circle on her back.

Yvie deepened the kiss, pushing Scarlet down gently so she was practically on top of her - a beautiful face staring up at her longingly between her very own two hands.

Scarlet’s hands travelled back down to her thighs, making her way under the dress.

The fucking dress.

“Fuck, Scarlet.” She beamed at the girl, nothing and no one else on her mind but the girl with the freckles on her cheeks and her hands, her hands on Yvie’s thighs.

And then they weren't.

And the silly grin, the carefree smile, the excitement in her eyes all faded.

Yvie watched as the moment caught Scarlet’s attention, watched as the realisation hit her brain of what was off, watched as she put the pieces together of the puzzle in her mind and pulled the ones apart in real life.

“You know who I am?” Scarlet looked at her and Yvie didn’t dare look back, bowing her head so she couldn’t see the mascara stained tear that slipped from the other girl's eye. 

“You’ve known all along. God, I’m an idiot.” She started to laugh in an unnerving way, the way that you laughed when the only other option was to cry, to really cry. “That’s why you took me home last night, you didn’t want to make sure I was safe!”

“No.” Yvie shook her head at the girl, forcing herself to make eye contact, forcing herself to face the reality of her actions, something she had always skipped over and run away from. “That’s not true, I promise.”

“What about the rest of it?” She was shouting now, waving her hands in the air. “What about when you came and found me in the market? What about when you bought me an ice cream? What about when you picked me up after I stumbled by the fountain? What about when you kissed me?”

“I’m sorry.” She reached forward to grab the other girl’s hand, but it was too late.

“Just for once, I thought someone was interested in me for me. What do you want? A picture on my story? You got a SoundCloud you want looking at?”

“I work for a magazine.” Yvie winced at her own words, knowing it was time to tell the truth.

Her words went straight into Scarlet’s body like Yvie had fired them from a gun.

“I hope it was worth it, putting up with me for the day.” Scarlet started to get mad at herself as well as Yvie, how could she slip up so badly. Big mistake, she told herself, fucking huge.

“It wasn’t like that,” Yvie tried, knowing there were no words in the Oxford dictionary that she could use to explain right then. 

Knowing there was no way to show Scarlet that watching her running around Primark was the most exciting thing she’d done in years. 

Knowing there was no way to tell her that she was the most beautiful person she had ever seen, filters and Photoshop aside.

Knowing it wasn’t possible to make Scarlet feel how awful she felt that this is how they met.

Knowing there was no chance in hell that the only good thing that happened to her since leaving University was going to stick around.

Now, who was supposed to be the dramatic one?

“What’s it about?” Scarlet asked. “No, I really wanna know.”

“Please, don’t.”

“ _ Scarlet’s Big Breakdown: Is she giving 2007 Britney a run for her money? _ ”

“No.” Yvie reached out again.

_ “‘My parents don’t understand me!’ Daughter of Flazé owners runs away. _ ”

Yvie’s eyes were so fogged with tears that she could only make out the other girl’s outline - she didn’t even realise she had been crying.

“Or better yet, _ Victoria’s newest Angel has a secret of her own. Scarlet’s big gay getaway! _ ”

Before Yvie could respond, Scarlet had unstrapped a heel and thrown in her direction, missing her completely and making a satisfying plop as it dipped into the water below.

“I deserved that.” She went to turn to the other girl, but she was already gone.

***

“I hear our princess has returned to her castle.” Nina looked up excitedly at Yvie as she entered her office. “You got a story for me?”

I have so many stories, Yvie thought to herself.

The story of how she realised that it was no use trying to live her life if it wasn’t something she was passionate about.

The story of how one day and one lady changed the way her mind saw the people of today.

The story of the best kiss she’d ever had.

And worst of all the story of her first real heartbreak.

“No,” she responded determinedly, “I don’t.”

“Yvie.” Nina looked at her with more pity than anger. “That would have been the biggest story of the month. You know what I have to do.”

“Yes,” Yvie responded, an uncanny sense of relief and happiness filling her at the thought of being sacked.

If there was one thing she had learned that week it was that she needed a fresh start.

“I wish you luck.” Nina pulled her into a big hug, “I really hope you get to write about something you care about someday, kidda.”

“Me too.” Yvie nodded as she pulled away, the image of a red-haired girl dancing on top of every brain cell in her head.

***

“Thank you for your concern,” Scarlet answered the inevitable question, reeling off the preplanned answer her mother had drilled into her brain. “The past few weeks of travelling and catering to the public really seemed to catch up on me, but I feel much better now, sending all my thanks to the great doctors of London who helped aid a better recovery.”

Somewhere in between the scrawling pens and hushed whispers she heard a chuckle. 

An odd laugh that she would recognise in a heartbeat, it belonging to an even odder girl sat in the back row of the conference, no notebook in hand, no recorder being fiddled with. Just a laugh.

The questions and answers flooded by like an out of body experience, her mouth speaking all sorts about new beds, her next modelling gig, her mother’s influence whilst her mind stayed on Yvie - not raising her hand, not asking a question - just sitting there, her wide eyes gripped on Scarlet’s every word, biting at the dry skin on her lips.

Scarlet didn’t know what compelled her to end the conference in such a way, for she had spent the past few days being furious at the other girl, blocking and unblocking her on every form of social media, screaming into her pillow at just the image of her face. But she did it anyway.

“I’d like to invite reporters to stay behind and mingle in our bar, feel free to ask me some more personal questions if necessary.” She glanced at the back of the room, making eye contact with the girl who had plagued both her thoughts and dreams ever since she stepped off that boat.

They did not speak straight away; first Scarlet faked smiles and gave handshakes, taking photos with anyone who wanted, but once they did cross paths, Scarlet felt again that buzz of energy that she could in no way deny.

“I’m not very good with words,” Yvie started. “Sometimes I can be a bit uncompromising and I don’t want to make this worse.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna sing to me.” Scarlet rolled her eyes sarcastically, thinking back to the moment she had murdered a Donna Summer song whilst getting ready for the party, Yvie throwing a cushion at her head in response.

“I thought I’d give you these.” She handed an envelope over. “I’m gonna head back North I think. As much as I love it here I think this city has brought out some of the worst traits in me and you showed me that, Scarlet, so thank you.”

And she was gone with the burst of the air-con.

Scarlet did not know what to expect in the envelope but it hadn’t been the pictures.

Yvie holding her hand out to her when she fell over.

The pair of them on the tube, Scarlet’s head in the clouds and Yvie looking at her with a look that she’d only ever seen in 1950s romance films.

The grin on her own face as they stood by the river Thames, a grumpy Yvie stood waiting for her, ready for her Italians.

And finally, the two of them dancing together on the boat, hand in hand, only focused on each other like there was no one else in the world never mind the floor surrounding them.

She turned it over, the Sharpied scrawl bringing a tear to her eye she didn’t even bother to try to fight.

“ _ My dearest Scarlet. I am sorry. So so sorry. I’m not writing the article. I just wanted you to know that other than my initial intentions, none of it was a lie, you gave me the best couple of days I didn’t even know I could have around here. Go take the world by storm, your own way. Yours, Yvie (the girl who kept you captive) xx _ ”

***

“Yvie.” She heard Scarlet’s voice call her name, quickly trying to wipe her snotty nose on her sleeve and pretend she hadn’t started bawling the second she left the hotel.

“I never thanked you for showing me around London.” She pathetically attempted to catch her breath before giving in and pulling Yvie into a kiss.

What she had thought before was a lie, this was the best kiss of her life. All while she had tears and phlegm on her sleeve, how romantic.

“So, thank you.” Scarlet nodded awkwardly, Yvie starting to laugh at how one of the biggest socialites in America could be anything close to awkward. “And sorry for throwing my shoe at you.”

“I think that I deserved it.” Yvie chuckled. “But you need better aim.”

“Maybe I missed on purpose.” Scarlet raised an eyebrow at the girl - there was that smile again, Yvie took a mental picture that she would keep forever.

“So,” she filled the air.

“So,” Scarlet responded.

“If you ever find yourself back in the UK...” Yvie knew she should be feeling sad about the goodbye but couldn’t help but feel happy about the time they had shared.

“And yourself in New York.”

“I’ll make sure to scan every bench I see.” Yvie let out a chuckle, pulling the girl into one final embrace.

“And I’ll make sure to find you just the same.”

“See you later.” Yvie smiled, something inside telling her that she would, that this wouldn’t be the last time she crossed paths with Scarlet. “My chemistry lady.”

She didn’t try to explain the comment to Scarlet’s confused face, only giving her hand one last squeeze before the pair of them both walked their separate ways, each ready to open a new page and live their lives how they wanted.

  
  
  



End file.
